Bhaarat Mom

As the Thretha and Dwapara yugas
Dissolved in the cine frames
The ten-headed Ravana
Took over Ayodhya
He called all Asuras
To sit in the upper house
Making Judas Iscariot
The head of the house
He called all Kauravas
To sit in the lower house
Making the notorious Brutus
The head of the house
He invited Ad-Dajjaal
To take care of the exchequer
So that Dajjal could lick
The exchequer like smoke Mountains

“What was left?” he asked
“Some regional leaders” the houses replied
“Let them represent the Sakuni”
“Some communal leaders?”
“Drutharashtra will lead them”
“What about the principled leaders?”
“They are the luckiest lot
Who will be accommodated
On the bed of arrows
Along with none other than
The Bheeshma pitha mahan”

I fell off the bed
My Bharat mom came in soon
Took the jar of water
And sprinkled on my face
I woke up.
“What happened?” she asked me
I detailed my dream
“Is it a dream? It is not a nightmare either,
If a beautiful nation is gripped by
All such evil forces, I can cry only for Rama”
“He is in the forest mom”
“Krishna…”
“He is in Delhi
Where Draupadi is stripped off
Every fourteen minutes…”
(And his chariot has been hijacked)

As she took a handful of water
From the jar and about to leave
I wondered and asked
“where are you going, mom?”
“to wake them up”
“who?”
“Those who vote and sleep,
Those who do not pretend to be asleep:
The people of India”